Breaking Dawn   ::   Meyer Stephenie

When I openedmy eyes again, the sun was halfway up the sky, but it was not the light that woke me. Cool arms were around me, pulling me against him. At the same time, a sudden pain twisted in my stomach, almost like the aftershock of catching a punch in the gut.

“I’m sorry,” Edward was murmuring as he wiped a wintry hand across my clammy forehead. “So much for thoroughness. I didn’t think about how hot you would be with me gone. I’ll have an air conditioner installed before I leave again.”

I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. “Excuse me!” I gasped, struggling to get free of his arms.

He dropped his hold automatically. “Bella?”

I streaked for the bathroom with my hand clamped over my mouth. I felt so horrible that I didn’t even care—at first—that he was with me while I crouched over the toilet and was violently sick.

“Bella? What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t answer yet. He held me anxiously, keeping my hair out of my face, waiting till I could breathe again.

“Damn rancid chicken,” I moaned.

“Are you all right?” His voice was strained.

“Fine,” I panted. “It’s just food poisoning. You don’t need to see this. Go away.”

“Not likely, Bella.”

“Go away,” I moaned again, struggling to get up so I could rinse my mouth out. He helped me gently, ignoring the weak shoves I aimed at him.

After my mouth was clean, he carried me to the bed and sat me down carefully, supporting me with his arms.

“Food poisoning?”

“Yeah,” I croaked. “I made some chicken last night. It tasted off, so I threw it out. But I ate a few bites first.”

He put a cold hand on my forehead. It felt nice. “How do you feel now?”

I thought about that for a moment. The nausea had passed as suddenly as it had come, and I felt like I did any other morning. “Pretty normal. A little hungry, actually.”

He made me wait an hour and keep down a big glass of water before he fried me some eggs. I felt perfectly normal, just a little tired from being up in the middle of the night. He put on CNN—we’d been so out of touch, world war three could have broken out and we wouldn’t have known—and I lounged drowsily across his lap.

I got bored with the news and twisted around to kiss him. Just like this morning, a sharp pain hit my stomach when I moved. I lurched away from him, my hand tight over my mouth. I knew I’d never make it to the bathroom this time, so I ran to the kitchen sink.

He held my hair again.